Star Trek: That Which Divides by Dayton Ward Page A

game.”
    “I’ve been going over my briefings on the Dolysians,”the ambassador said, sighing. “I think those files keep growing when I’m not looking.”
    The food slot’s door slid up, revealing McCoy’s coffee, and he retrieved it as he turned to regard Sortino. “I used to cram before a big test all the time, too. Not sure if it helped, but for some reason it always managed to put my mind at ease.”
    “Lucky you,” Sortino countered. “All it does for me is put my mind to throbbing, and thus, the reason for my visit. I was hoping you might remedy that.”
    McCoy crossed back to his desk, setting the coffee down next to his computer terminal. “Congratulations. You’ve just been promoted to my most challenging case of the day.” He gestured for her to follow him. “Follow me, Ambassador, and we’ll have you fixed right up in no time.” He led her into the laboratory area and toward the storage cabinets where he kept those curatives that were most often requested by his walk-in patients. Opening the cabinet containing mild analgesics and other low-dose medications, he selected a small vial and dispensed a single, small blue tablet into Sortino’s open and extended palm.
    “It’ll dissolve as soon as it hits your tongue,” he said. “Doesn’t taste too bad, either, but I can get you some water if you like.”
    Sortino shook her head. “This’ll be fine, thank you.” Swallowing the pill, she closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose. After a moment, she said, “Is it supposed to work so fast?”
    “Oh, yes,” McCoy replied. “It’s no mint julep, but it gets the job done.” Replacing the vial in the cabinet and closing the unit, he asked, “So, what now? Back to reviewing briefing packets?”
    “Nope,” Sortino said. “Captain Kirk called down to my cabin a few minutes ago. Mister Spock has finished his analysis of the Huang Zhong ’s recorder buoy, and is ready to brief me on his findings. I’m on my way to the bridge.”
    Considering the ambassador’s statement, he asked, “The bridge? That has to be more exciting than anything going on around here. Would you mind if I shared a turbolift with you?”
    Sortino frowned. “You can just do that? Go up to the bridge?”
    “I have clearance throughout the ship,” McCoy replied. “One of the fringe benefits of being something of a counselor as well as the chief medical officer.” He shrugged. “Not the job I trained for, but I guess it helps that I have a knack for reading people. So, I wander around the ship from time to time. It gives me an opportunity to observe the crew in their work spaces, rather than formalizing the process by bringing them in here and making them self-conscious about talking about whatever might be bothering them.” Then he smiled. “Mostly, I just like snooping around.”
    Leaving sickbay, they navigated around other members of the Enterprise crew as they made their way through the curved corridor. A pair of crewmen dressed in maintenance coveralls, whom McCoy recognized as part of the engineering staff, were waiting at the turbolift doors as he and Sortino approached. Both men stepped aside, allowing him and the ambassador to enter the lift.
    “Going up?” McCoy asked when the men remained standing in the corridor rather than stepping into the car.
    One of the crewmen shook his head. “We’ll get the next one, Doctor.”
    “Suit yourself.” The doors closed, and McCoy reachedfor one of the grips mounted inside the lift. “Bridge.” He felt the gentle push beneath his feet as the car vibrated and whined to life before moving on a lateral track. As it continued to accelerate, he noted for some inexplicable reason that the light bands scrolling past the turbolift’s motion indicator caused a strobe effect across Sortino’s face. It was an odd, soothing sight, and it was not until Sortino turned to face him that he realized he was staring.
    “Sorry,” he said, feeling a wave of sudden